


What Friends Are For

by Meduseld



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Bisexuality, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, The one where they take years to realize they're in love, Unhealthy Relationships, at first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:59:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meduseld/pseuds/Meduseld
Summary: That one night, between Will and Warren, that changed everything.





	What Friends Are For

Will’s on something like month three of the current Layla breakup, because she’s gone to Tibet to find some rare moss and it’s a thing they do.

Warren wants to say he’s over it, but somehow he’s caught in the cycle, where there’s no fights but excess mopeyness and both of them being clingier.

He’s not above it, starved for the affection even though they’ve been there for years and showing no signs of wanting to quit him. Not even after his father’s seventh prison break.

Except, this is the longest Will and Layla have been _apart_ apart.

Whatever fragile balance they have, this could be it.

He thinks that about every five weeks.

The point being, Will’s especially gloomy on Warren’s ugly carpet, sighing up at the ceiling like it’s jaywalked right in front of him.

It has a way better effect when he’s wearing his White Knight suit.

He’d asked Warren to be Black Knight, as a partner, not a sidekick, when he’d first started out. Warren had laughed. Vulcan worked alone.

Except for whenever they ended up saving the world together, with Belladona by their side.

Maybe Warren’s a little gloomy too.

It doesn’t help that the air is so wet and heavy, rain pounding at the windows. The season is changing, which is a good thing according to the TV set because crime goes way down. Even the Evil Midnight Bomber doesn’t want to get soaked.

“Hey” Will says, wrapping a hand around his ankle, squeezing hard enough to break an ordinary person’s bone. To Warren it’s comforting.

“Alright, that’s enough” he says and gets the weed.

The first time Will had even tried pot had been in Warren’s small, dingy but neat teenage bedroom, his mother in the kitchen singing to herself off-key. Even now, in his own apartment, tiny but clean and _his_ , Warren still keeps it in the same Altoids tin in his night stand.

Will had coughed more than anything that night, then laughed. Eventually he and Warren made their way to the roof, where’d they’d stretched out on their backs and held hands for no good reason, staring up at the starry sky.

Warren didn’t think he’d kept up the habit, or even smoked at all without Warren. That was nice, in its own way.

It’s nicer to be high together, shoulders rubbing easily while they sit against Warren’s bed because the shitty carpet is suddenly amazing.

This close, Will smells great, clean and fresh with an underlying touch of dust and debris that hasn’t left his skin since he first got his powers and into a cafeteria fight with Warren. That part he’s not very fond of remembering.

At least it’s a memory he can just push away.

Some are harder. Like the end of his dad’s first trial. The first time he broke a bone.

The night of Zach and Magenta’s housewarming party, the one Will left early with Donna because it was after one of the first Layla breakups and they were still pretending they could care for other people that way.

It’s a prickly thing, bitter but sweet, because that night Layla had cried and he’d hugged her. Taken her into the guest bedroom.

And kissed her back, slipped a hand between her legs and worked at her, so hot and wet, until she sighed against him.

She’d thanked him, honest, and that was all there was to it.

They’d been back together less than a week later.

*

A sudden clap of thunder shocks him back to the present, gets them both to laugh in stunned surprise.

When they settle back, he finds that he’s smiling. It worked out, in the end.

Will tucks his head against Warren’s neck and practically purrs, the very corner of his lips setting off goosebumps over Warren’s skin.

Suddenly this isn’t harmless, alarmingly dangerous. Life threatening.

“Hey” Warren says this time, shrugging his shoulders, trying to dislodge him.

It’s a mistake.

Because what he gets is Will’s huge, huge eyes, pinning him down like the insects they’d had to collect for Mad Science in the 11th grade.

Will doesn’t close his them when he presses his lips, paper dry, against Warren’s.

“Stop” he hears himself mumble around the dull throb of his heartbeat in his throat. He can taste iron.

Will stops, but doesn’t move away.

They’re breathing the same air, and then it’s Warren that’s kissing him and he can’t stop, won’t stop, isn’t sure how to stop.

Will’s hair is soft between Warren’s grasping fingers, his skin warm where his other hand is stealing up his shirt.

He’s rocking his hips, whispering about how much he wants this, wants Warren, wants him deep inside, making him full, making him _complete_.

Warren kisses him, hungry, fever hot.

He wants, practically _needs_ , to give him all that and more, give him everything, because he’s been a sucker for Will since they beat Royal Pain and everyone saw him as more than Barron’s son.

Will gave him the world, gave him unconditional friendship and purpose and _Layla_ , and Warren’s never going to be able to pay him back.

Except in this, apparently, hands fumbling for the lube he keeps next to the Altoid tin, reaching for the condoms too before Will pulls him back, eager.

There’s no words for the noises Will makes when Warren’s fingers move inside him, like he’s finding the divine with every stroke.

It’s stupid, monumentally stupid, the worst thing he’s ever done, like he’s broken in somewhere he has no business being and stole something he didn’t even deserve to look at.

But he can’t be sorry when Will pushes him down, brackets him with strong thighs and drops down.

Maybe the only word is Hallelujah.

It’s like the world moves with them as Will rocks his hips down, short nails digging into Warren’s chest.

He rides Warren with no restraint, like Warren’s something stolen, fierce and wild and unspeakably beautiful.

His eyes are closed and his lips parted, cheeks flushed.

Warren will never forget this, Will riding him, ringed by thunder and dark skies. Warren’s hands close hard on his hips, his thighs, anywhere he can reach.

He doesn’t have to worry about bruises, about hurting him, about the carpet burning his back where it’s rocking from Will’s weight.

There’s no room in him for anything but _Will, Will, Will_ as he moves above Warren like something out of a better world.

 _Oh_ , says something deep inside him, _I love him_.

Then he’s coming, streaking Warren like a blessing and he can’t help but follow.

*

Will gets up after, from where they’re collapsed on the floor, not cuddling exactly, but tangled together.

Warren’s heart lurches a little as he watches, silent, as Will gathers his clothes.

He’s pretty sure he can see his come sliding down Will’s thigh.

“You good?” he mumbles and Will startles.

“Yeah, yeah. I just gotta get home”, he says, lips twitching in something close to a smile.

He slides open the window to fly out, the cold air seeping in like a slap. The rain’s stopped, at least.

Will puts a foot on the ledge, hesitates, puts it back on the carpet.

He turns back and Warren’s half way up.

He kisses Warren like an apology, like a promise, like a goodbye. “You know I love you right?” he whispers and Warren half nods, half shakes his head. “You’re my best friend”.

That’s when he goes.

*

It takes Warren a while to work up the energy to close the window.

He doesn’t get much sleep, and it’s just a dull annoyance when his phone goes off at an unreasonable hour, the light still weak and grey.

“Are you okay?” says Layla, crackly on the other end of the line.

It feels like she’s right there, fingers threaded through his.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” he says staring at the ceiling. He doesn't even sound passable to his own ears.

“Will told me” she says, going right for the gut, like she does every time. “Fucking why?”

“ _Warren_ ” she says, and yeah, okay.

Will tells her everything.

It hits him suddenly that, actually, Will probably knows about that night, of the housewarming. He wonders what else they tell each other about him, annoyed with himself for being secretly pleased that they do.

“He doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s scared that he did” she says and it’s so Stronghold he could laugh.

“I don’t need coddling, Layla. One night stands happen”. She sighs at him down the line and he desperately wishes she really were there.

They talk about nothing for a while, not long enough, and hang up.

Warren rolls over, goes back to sleep, doesn’t dream.

*

(Six months later, shielding himself from alien gunfire, that’s what he thinks about. How it would have gone differently if she’d been there.

Belladonna is with him, taking orders from White Knight because she’s his girlfriend again and Warren could never deny him anything and an interstellar invasion isn’t a good place to start anyway.

That night stays on his mind, it’s probably the way he can taste iron, from a punch that cut his cheek on his teeth this time.

When it’s over, Warren digs himself out of a ditch and Will is there, suddenly, arms around him.

“Are you hurt?” he says, over and over and Warren has to kiss him, it’s so ridiculous.

Will kisses back, desperate and when Layla’s arms wrap around them both, her cheek hot against his neck he thinks _Okay, okay. I’m home_ )

**Author's Note:**

> ****
> 
> [ Suggested listening for this fic ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0C58ttB2-Qg) . 
> 
> White Knight is Will’s hero name because he is and white is in his color scheme, Warren is Vulcan because [ Hephaestus ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hephaestus) is hard to pronounce, and  [ Belladona ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atropa_belladonna) fits Layla way too well.
> 
> The Midnight Bomber  [ is borrowed from The Tick ](http://the-tick-animated.wikia.com/wiki/Evil_Midnight_Bomber_What_Bombs_at_Midnight) and yes that’s  [ Donna Troy ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Donna_Troy) because as much as I love her she’s demonstrated  [terrible judgment when it comes to men. ](http://www.cracked.com/article_16230_the-6-creepiest-comic-book-characters-all-time.html)
> 
>  


End file.
